Cursed
by 753demigodwarlock
Summary: She didn't want to be cursed; she wanted to be happy, happy with her family and freinds. But then a demon cursed her and now she can't be around people without the possibility of them dying. She's doing pretty good with avoiding the compony of people, when she's attacked by a demon and the Shadowhunters of the London Institute save her. Can she avoid getting attached? WillxOC R&R
1. Chapter 1

The girl ran, tears falling down her face. She was about twelve-years-old, certainly not old enough to be wandering of on her own in the streets of London. It had started to rain and she ran under the jutting roof of a building for shelter from the roaring winds. She had curly ebony colored hair, so dark it had a tint of dark blue. Her eyes were exquisite, as her bother used to say. They were emerald green surrounding the pupil and circling that was a kind of light sapphire blue. The thought of her twin brother filled her with pain and guilt. She longed to be in her family's large mansion by the fireplace with her two brothers, arguing with her twin as her older brother looked on amused. She closed her eyes, _I can't, _she thought, _I can't let them die because of me. _She drew in a deep breath; she couldn't think of them, if she did she would only torture herself further. She held her head up high, wiping the tears away. She would be strong and carry on with her life. She was no longer the daughter of Benedict Lightwood and the younger sister of Gideon Lightwood, nor the twin sister of Gabriel Lightwood. She was no longer Seraphine Lightwood, she was now Sara Blueblood.


	2. Chapter 2

**All rights go to Cassandra Clare and only Sara belongs to me, oh and the story line/plot. This is 5 years later.**

_Sara's POV_

I ran from the baker's shouts. I held the stolen bread to my chest, increasing my speed. I ran into an alley way, I pressed my back to the wall until the baker ran past. He came back looking from side from side; I pressed myself closer to the wall. After a while he sighed in defeat and walked back to his bakery. I slide down to sit on the floor, grinning.

*Flashback*

_ I walked into the bakery, my cap pulled down low over my face to cover my eyes. I started to walk among the many varieties of pastries and breads. _

_ "Are you looking for anything specific, lad?" the Baker asked. I just shook my head. He shrugged and left to the back of the bakery. I quickly made my move snatching a piece of bread and hiding it in one of my pockets. I snatched for a pastry when I heard a shout. I looked up, it was the Baker. _Damn_, I thought, _caught.

_ "What d' ya think you're doing?" He barked. _

_I snatched the pastry and ran out the door._

*End of flashback*

I got up, taking out the pastry. It was a golden-brown circlet with glaze over it. My mouth watered. I heard a small whimper. I turned to find the source, it was a little girl. She couldn't have been more than 7 years old. She had messy, dirty curls and big clear blue eyes. My heart ached at the sight of her, she was messy and dirty, her clothes dirty rags. She looked at my pastry with longing filling her eyes; my heart wrenched apart and I gave her the pastry. A little boy in the same condition ran up next to her, he looked at me with big blue eyes. I sighed and handed over the bread I had in my pocket and gave it to him. After taking the bread the little boy, accompanied by the little girl, ran off.

Now that I had no food left, I started to walk down the alley. I was thinking about stealing more pastries, but thought against it. I was tired, and the baker might actually catch me that time, and I didn't want to go to jail. That would be a waste of my time, by the next day I would be out. As a walked a chill swept through me. I shivered, but continued walking. I heard shuffling behind me and I froze, straining my ears trying to find hear the sound again. Nothing. I continued walking. I continued walking. Again I heard the sound, _scuff scuff_, of boots scuffing the pavement. I countinued walking, I was being parinoid. A low growl sounded behind me; I turned knife ready to stab the person who was likely about to jump me, when I caught sight of who it was. It wasn't a who it was a _what_. The hellhound growled. I cursed, leveling the knife at it, I was prepared to attack. But apparently the hellhound wasn't about to give me the advantege of the first strike. It pounced.

**You could check out what she looks like on my account, if your curious. And please tell what you think, even if you hated it. If you have any ideas on what I need to improve, tell me! R&R.**


	3. Chapter 3

The hellhound pounced. I quickly dodged it, jumping out of the way. I drew the seraph blade sheathed at my side, whispering _Cassiel_, and ran towards it. I slashed my blade in an over-hand strike, but the hellhound dodged the blow. It barred its teeth menacingly at me and snapped at my hand; I was able to pull my hand back quickly enough that there was no damage, but it pulled my glove off. It happened so fast that I didn't even have time to hide my hand. The hellhound growled, coming foreword until its nuzzle was touching my hand. It opened its mouth, wide as if to bite my hand off, but before its razor sharp teeth could touch my fingers, black tendrils of something like smoke went in to its mouth. It let out a whimper and stepped back; it howled in pain, then then fell to the floor and folded in on itself.

I gasped and held my hand to my chest. I knew what had happened, I had killed it. With just the touch of my hand, I had killed it. That was my curse. I could kill any human being or monster with the touch of my left hand. I had learned how to control "Death" and will it to turn into black smoky tendrils and suffocate a single person or a whole army of monsters.

I inhaled sharply and picked up my discarded seraph blade and returned it to its sheath. I picked up the black glove and stood up. I examined my left hand. It was normal enough, except for the nails and the Mark on my palm. My nails were gold; not pure gold, but not necessarily painted gold (more like gold leaf paper over the nails).

I sighed shaking my head, you couldn't change the past. I started putting on my glove when a chorus of growls made me turn. Now facing me was an army of hellhounds, their teeth were barred ready to attack. There were a lot, thousands and thousands of them, all with the same predatory glint in their eyes.

I gripped the glove in my hand. Should I use Death on them? But what if I got carried away? I still had enough energy to do it, but with that many hellhounds the vast amount of power I would be using would make the craving of more power stronger. And if I succumbed into it . . . there would be no telling how deadly the consequences. But I had no choice, it was me or them. I closed my hand and extended my arms in front of me, concentrating on my powers. I was about to let loose Death on them when a shadow caught my attention. The shape was male; not large enough to be of a man, but not as small as a young boy's might me, more like in the middle. Then, he appeared in front of my, having just jumped off the roof. He had landed on his feet in a crouching position, facing the army of hellhounds. He turned towards me and I got a clear view of him. He had Dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck and behind his ears, and pale face with high, sharp cheekbones. He was tall, maybe a good head or two taller than me. He was beautiful, truly beautiful, but the most interesting part of him were his eyes. They were the cooler of the sky at dawn, before it turned completely black; a bluish-violet colour.

He grinned, a devilsh grin a sure sign of trouble, and said: "Hello there milady, I'm here to save you." And he unsheathed a sword and jumped into the horde of demons.


End file.
